Moments in Time
by AnneM.Oliver
Summary: Five separate moments in the Life of Hermione Granger. One moment with Harry, one with Ron, one with Professor Lupin, one with Oliver Wood and last, one with Draco Malfoy. Not written in chronological order. Romance and Friendship, Heartache, Pain & Love.
1. Part I: Harry and Hermione

All characters belong to JKR

**Moments in Time**

**By**

**AnneM.**

* * *

Part I: Harry and Hermione

Gentle sobs drifted through the air. The sound coming freely through the canvas walls of the tent. Her pain was clear. It hung in the air like a thick layer of smoke and he felt it would surely choke him.

'Please, stop crying.' That was his single thought. He needed her to stop crying so he would stop feeling her pain. He was tired of always feeling everyone's pain.

He sighed. He should go comfort her. Goodness knows that she had comforted him many times. He just didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry" just didn't seem like it was enough, and yet, it was more than he could bear to say right now.

Therefore, he stayed rooted to the same spot and listened to her cry.

Hours passed. Her cries went from heartfelt wails that resembled mourning to the intermittent hiccups and occasional cries that she now emitted. She would have to stop sometime, wouldn't she? She couldn't cry forever. She either had to go to sleep or dehydrate, one or the other.

He finally dared to move inside the tent. He walked up to her room and pulled back the piece of canvas covering the door. "Hermione?" he asked. The only answer was the occasional intake of breath, and the stifling of more tears.

He walked closer.

"Hermione?" he asked again.

"He's gone," she said.

"Yes, yes he is," he answered back. He crept closer and finally dared to sit on the end of her cot.

"How could he leave me?" she asked.

"He left us," he clarified.

"It feels like he left me," she justified.

He took a deep breath. He placed his hand on her leg, over the blanket.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say.

"It's not your fault," she said. Not his fault. He knew that was what she would say. Yet, he felt it was his fault. All of this was his fault.

"Hermione, I want you to leave, too. I want you to go home," he said.

Suddenly, there were more tears. "I don't even have a home to go to, Harry." He was quiet for a long time, and so was she. She finally said, "I miss my parents."

"I know."

"I miss a comfortable bed,"

"I know."

"I miss indoor plumbing," she said with a bit of a laugh.

At least it wasn't a cry. He smiled and said, "What I wouldn't give for a hot shower."

"And something good to eat," she added.

"I've never looked more fondly on my aunt's table scraps than I do today," he said with a smile.

"What else do you miss?" she asked. She turned over from her back to her side, so she could face him. He kept his hand on her leg.

"Jam," he said.

They both laughed.

"I miss music," she said.

"Quidditch," he said.

"Figures," she answered. "I miss Ron." She was suddenly quiet again. He could only hope that she wouldn't start crying once more.

"He's not been gone that long. I don't miss him yet," he answered honestly. "Maybe he will come back." He knew that he wouldn't, but he wanted to say that statement anyway. He also knew she was too smart to believe him.

"He won't be back," she said.

"Do you love him?" he asked. "Not just as a friend, but, you know, are you in love?"

"I thought so," she said. "I'm not sure now. He must not love me, or he wouldn't have left me. I hurt him, Harry. He thinks I chose you over him. Maybe I did. Maybe I don't love him as much as I thought."

"I think you do," he said.

"Do you love Ginny?" she asked.

"Yes, very much," he said.

"Tell me five reasons why you love her," she said.

He chuckled. 'Hermione and her lists,' was all he could think. He said, "Is this a quiz, Professor Hermione. State five reasons you love someone, and the chemical properties of that love."

She laughed and hit his arm. "Just answer the question," she said.

"She makes me happy, she feels like home, she loves me, she makes me feel safe in an unsafe world."

"That's only four," Hermione said.

"Well, that's enough," Harry said. "Give me five reasons why you love Ron."

"He makes me so angry sometimes, that I want to jinx him. He vexes me to no end. He's annoying and bothersome, and he used to make me feel protected." She started to cry again.

Harry put his hand on her arm and rubbed it up and down. "Have you kissed before?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "Have you kissed before?"

"No, I've never kissed Ron," Harry laughed.

"I mean Ginny!" she said, smiling again.

He knew that. He smiled and said, "Yes, we've kissed."

"A lot?" she asked.

"I guess."

"Have you done more than kiss?" she asked.

"No," Harry said sadly. Perhaps they never would.

"I've kissed Ron seven times," she said.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Only you would remember how many times you've kissed. You probably have them all categorized and filed away in that massive brain of yours. They probably all have titles, like 'The First Time' or 'The Kiss on the Stairs', right?"

She smiled, leaned up on her elbow, and said, "But of course."

"Tell me about number four," Harry said, and then laughed.

"That was in the Burrow's kitchen. His mum had us washing dishes, and we were all alone, and he was washing, I was drying, and his arms were elbow deep in sudsy water. He splashed me with the bubbles, I hit him with the towel, and then he grabbed my face with his wet hands and kissed me. It was a hard kiss, but exciting."

Harry thought that seemed like a nice moment.

"What was number six?" Harry asked.

"That was right before we left. He took me aside and told me he would keep me safe and that no matter what he wouldn't leave me," she said somberly.

Harry expected a new batch of tears. When none came, he asked, "Number seven?"

"Two days ago. He was on watch and you were asleep. We had argued, about the lack of food, the lack of progress, and his general frustration. I went outside to apologize to him. I knew part of his problem was the damn necklace. However, I knew that you had it on, so I had hoped he would be in a better mood."

Hermione suddenly turned away from Harry, her face toward the tent wall. "I walked outside," she continued, "And knelt beside him. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. I didn't say a word to him. I just kissed him. I started to stand up, to come back in the tent, when he grabbed my arm. He pulled me down into his lap and we snogged for a good ten minutes."

Harry went to lie down on the cot beside her. He placed his arm around her.

"You don't deserve this," he said suddenly. His breath felt warm on her neck. He felt her body stiffen. "Fine, I was born into this, I can accept that, and the whole prophecy thing. I **can** accept that! You, you don't deserve this. Your only mistake was coming into our train car that first day and speaking to Ron and me."

She turned around. She placed her hand on his cheek. "You were a little boy, Harry, and in some ways, you still are. Too much was put on your shoulders, and all because of a happenstance of your birth. You didn't deserve this, either. You still don't. I love you. I'm your friend. If I can help you, and my world, then I am going to do it." Hermione leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I love you so much. You are all I have now. Don't caste me out, please." She couldn't help it, new tears came and so she began to cry again.

He placed his arms around her. "I don't want you to leave," he admitted. "I would be scared and alone if you left, but then, isn't that selfish of me?"

"There's not a selfish bone in your body, Harry," she answered.

They were quiet for a long time. Her head rested on his chest. He was beginning to think she was asleep when she said, "Sometimes I get so afraid, Harry. I am afraid that we won't find the Horcruxes, and that we won't defeat him."

"We won't, Hermione. I will. And I'm afraid, too," he said. He kissed the top of her head.

"What will we do, now, Harry?" she asked.

"Carry on and muddle through, I suppose," he said. Seriously, why did she expect him to know what they would do? He was sort of counting on her to tell him. He picked up a strand of her long, brown, wavy hair and twirled it around his finger.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he finally said. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

She placed her hand on his cheek and said, "I'm sorry, too."

-The End of Part I -

(Next Part: Hermione and Ron)


	2. Part II: Ron and Hermione

All characters belong to JKR

Part II: Ron and Hermione:

He paced back and forth outside her bedroom. He knocked a good five minutes ago. She said, "Just a minute," not, "Just five minutes." He knocked again. She finally answered the door.

God, she looked beautiful.

She looked just like he imagined she would look on her wedding day.

The only difference was that he had always assumed that he would be the one at the end of the aisle, watching her glide toward him, a vision in white, instead of being the one to walk her down the aisle.

Well, fate had funny plans for people, didn't it?

"Blimey, Hermione, you are so beautiful," Ron said.

"Thanks, Ron," she said, a slight blush coming to her cheeks.

He walked in her room and said, "The git's just not good enough for you, that's all there is to it."

She laughed and said, "Harry already had this conversation with me, so thanks, but I don't need to hear it again." She sat back down at her dressing table and began to fidget with her makeup. He stood behind her chair and put his hands on her shoulders. They looked at each other in the mirror.

"Do you know when I fell in love with you?" he asked.

"When?" she asked back.

"The first day of Hogwarts, on the train, when you told me I had dirt on my nose," he said. "It was love at first sight. I was totally gobsmacked just looking at you."

"Oh, go on," she said, blushing again.

"Seriously," he said. He moved away from the mirror and sat on the edge of the dressing table. He held her hand. "Remember the troll back in first year?"

"Well, one doesn't forget a fully grown troll, Ron, so yes, I remember it," she said.

"When Harry and I realized that you were missing and it was out there roaming the halls, and you were in danger, all I thought was, please, not her. I know I had acted horrid to you up until that point, and I desperately wanted to find you, make sure you were okay, and make it all right. I wanted to seek your forgiveness. I wanted to hold your hand, and take back all the mean things I had said to you."

"I know. It hurt most because you were the one who said them, and because I already loved you, too, as much as a twelve year old girl could love an eleven year old boy," she laughed.

"Remember in second year when Malfoy called you that awful name. I hate him so much," Ron said. She gave him a reproachful look and he said, "I mean, I hated, past tense, hated him so much."

"You tried to come to my rescue, and that's all that matters," she said. She stood up and stood between his parted legs, her body pressed against his and her head on his shoulder.

"It didn't help that I was throwing up slugs for hours afterwards," he said, with a funny look on his face. To this day, when he thought of that incident, he could almost 'taste' the slugs.

Hermione pushed away from him and smiled. "You were always my knight in shining armor."

"When you were petrified, Harry and I became unglued. I felt it was my fault. I felt like I was put on this earth to love and protect you, and I failed. I still feel that way sometimes. Sometimes I think I have really let you down over the years."

She cupped his cheek with her hand and said, "You've been the best friend a girl could ever have, and a perfect knight in shining armor. I would suggest you for knighthood to her majesty this very moment, if I thought she would grant it."

"Oh, go on," he said, repeating her phrase from earlier, and pushing her away.

She twirled around and said, "Do you really think I will do? Do I look pretty enough for him. He might outshine me."

"Since his face looks like the backside of a donkey, you look too good for him," he said.

"Ronald! That's my future husband you are maligning!" she chastised.

He merely shrugged and sat on her bed. She sat beside him. He took her hand, in an intimate gesture, opened her fingers, and kissed her palm. "You look as pretty as you did fourth year, at the Yule ball. How I wish I had plucked up the nerve to ask you to go with me."

"I wanted to go with you, too," she said. "It seems we were very rarely on the same page at the same time. It was very frustrating." She stood back up and went back to sit at the dressing table. She started to put on diamond earrings.

Ronald Weasley watched Hermione Granger as she got ready to marry another man and all he could think was…'It should be me.' He still loved her. He would always love her. He always assumed they would marry someday, have kids, a home, and the whole works. It was as she said; they just were never on the same page at the same time.

As she continued to get ready for her wedding to the world's biggest git, his mind began to wander to all the precious times they shared together.

He remembered when he was almost poisoned in sixth year. She snuck into the hospital room late at night, and sat by his bed. She held his hand, as he feigned sleep, and she brought his hand up to her face. She kissed his knuckles. He could feel remnants of tears upon the top of his hand. She said, "Ronald, I love you so much. Please, forgive me for acting like such a fool. Please, get well. Please. I can't live without you."

He continued to pretend to sleep. He loved her, too. He was the one that was the fool. He almost gave her up, but he would rectify that as soon as he could. She started to cry again, and he could no longer keep up his ruse. He opened his eyes, and in a bit of daring, and dramatic flare, he said, "Hermione, is that you?"

"Oh, Ron!" she said. She hugged him tightly. He raised his eyebrows, as one of his hands came to her back, to press her closer. He liked it when they were close like that.

He said, "I'm okay, Hermione."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes, don't worry about me," he urged.

"I am so sorry for everything, Ron," she said.

"Hermione, you never have to apologize to me ever again. You've done nothing wrong. I want you to know something. I'm going to break up with Lavender. I've wanted to for a long time and almost dying rather brings things into perspective. I know what's right and what's wrong, and being with her is wrong."

"And what's right?" she asked with a small voice.

"Us," he said. He brought his hand up to her face, bringing his fingertips down her cheek softly. She smiled.

He loved her then and he loved her now.

He looked back over at her. She was messing with her hair again. For some reason, his mind began to wander to that day in fifth year when they went to the Ministry because Harry was convinced that Voldemort had Sirius, and they had to fight all those Death Eaters. Hermione almost died that day. He didn't want to think of unpleasant things like that. Not today. He had just pushed that unpleasant thought out of his mind when he thought about the time he left her and Harry during their search for Horcruxes. He shuddered.

Sometimes, at night, when he slept, he had nightmares about that. He could still hear her calling, no, yelling for him, "RON! Don't leave me! Ron!"

Perhaps if he hadn't left her that day, he would be the one marrying her **this** day, not the world's biggest wanker. That was his biggest regret. He tried for days and days to find them again, and he couldn't. When he finally found them, after saving Harry from almost drowning, he thought she would welcome him back with open arms.

He smiled slightly when he recalled the truth. She almost beat the shite out of him that day.

She looked over at him and said, "Why are you smiling?"

"I'm thinking of you, of course," he said.

She walked over to the bed and he stood up. She touched his hair and said, "You need a hair cut."

"My mum already told me that," he said.

"You are so tall," she said, off handed.

"Well, okay, that's random," he said. "I've always been tall," he reminded her.

"I know. I like you tall. I like your hair long, too," she said.

"Good thing, that," he said with a smile.

He pulled her into his arm again and embraced her with all the love he felt. He leaned his face toward hers and kissed her lips. He said, "I really do still love you, you know."

"I know," she responded.

"Are you sure about this, Hermione? Are you sure he will truly make you happy?" he asked. If she asked him to, he take her far, far, away right now...if she asked him. However, he knew she wouldn't.

"Have you ever known me not to be sure about something, Ron?" was her response. She had a point.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then she said, "It means the world to me that you and Harry are going to walk me down the aisle. I just wish my dad was still here to do it." He pulled her to him again and moved her back and forth, lightly, his hand stroking her back.

"I'm sorry he died, Hermione. I know he wanted to live long enough to walk you down the aisle. I just hope I can do him justice," he said.

She looked on the verge of tears, but then she said, "It's all working out in the end, because seriously, if you two weren't walking me down the aisle, then I would want you to be my maids of honours, and that would be weird, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know," Ron said. "Those lilac dresses you picked out would have looked nice on Harry, but they might have clashed with my hair."

She laughed.

Just then, there was another knock on the door. It was Harry. He said from the other side, "Hermione, your mum told me it's time. Is Ron still in there with you?"

"Yes, Harry," she said.

"Well, come out, both of you."

She picked up her bouquet from her dresser and started toward the door. He stopped her by putting his hand on her arm.

"Will you promise me something, Hermione?" he asked.

"Anything, Ron," she promised.

"If you need me, no matter what time of the day, no matter what the reason, if you just need to talk, or cry, or have a good laugh, call me. I always will be there for you, no matter what. I will always be your knight, even if I'm not the man you are going to marry." In his head he thought, 'And because I will always love you.'

"Of course, Ron, there's no reason to fear. You are always the first person I will come to, because no matter what, I will always love you, too." She smiled at him. He hadn't even said the words aloud, yet she answered him, by adding the word, 'too'.

He offered her his arm, which she gladly accepted. He smiled. She would always love him, too.

End of Part II (Next Part, Hermione and Lupin)


	3. Part III: Remus and Hermione

All characters belong to JKR

Part III: Remus and Hermione:

Hogwarts -

He stood by the window, watching the leaves fall from the trees. It felt so good to be back at Hogwarts. In many ways, it was the only place he ever truly felt he belonged. He knew his time here was precarious, so he would try not to become too comfortable. Dumbledore wanted him here this year to help Harry. To help Harry prepare for his future, and what a dark and bleak future it was. He could hardly believe how much Harry looked like James. He was different though, in so many ways. He had more compassion, and a deeper sense of what was right and wrong. He also had better friends.

He laughed when he thought of that. Where was Miss Granger anyway? It was unlike her to be late, especially with that time turner McGonagall gave her. He turned around just as he heard a timid knock on his door.

He walked over to the door and opened it. "Hello, Miss Granger," he greeted her warmly.

"Hello, Professor Lupin," she said.

"Now, I believe you wanted to speak with me," he said. He sat down on one of the chairs at one of the tables, and motioned that she should sit at the other. She sat beside him and looked at her hands. He would make this easier on her. He would start. "You wanted to speak to me about the essay that Professor Snape assigned for you in my class, isn't that right?"

"Yes, Professor," she said. "I wanted to ask you about Lycanthropy."

"Did you not find any interesting books on the subject in the library?" he asked.

"Well, yes I did," she said, "but that's not what I wanted to know."

"Do tell," he said with a smile.

"I wanted to know what it felt like. I wanted to know how one coped with such a malady, and how one kept it a secret. I also wanted to say that if I knew of someone with this disease, I would still think of them as a human being first," she said.

He smiled. She was smart. He said, "Harry's father used to call it my hairy little problem." He stood up and said, "Let's not talk of unpleasant things, and believe me, it is very unpleasant."

"How old were you when you were afflicted," she asked.

"My, you are persistent," he said. "Fine, I was a child. I was just ten years old. My parents wanted to hide me away at first. Back then, Wolfsbane potion had not yet been invented, so I had to endure my monthly changes all on my own. After I entered Hogwarts, my friends helped me."

"How did they do that?" she asked.

He sat back down beside her and said, "They all became unregistered animagus. Each month, when the new moon came, they would change along with me. Only Professor Dumbledore knew. We would go to the Shrieking Shack, and change there, and then they would roam the forbidden forest with me until I changed back. They kept me out of harms way, but more importantly, they kept me from harming anyone."

"I'm sorry that happened to you," she said. "And, for the record, your secret is safe with me. I won't tell a soul."

"I know you won't," he said with a smile. He said, "Harry is lucky to have you as a friend, you know."

"I think he's lucky to have you, too. You give him a connection to both his parent. One he's never had before, and for that, I want to thank you," she said.

She was thanking him. He marveled at the young woman before him. He said, "I think you and Harry are both destine to great things, Hermione. Remember above all else, be true to yourself, be proud of who and what you are, always show others compassion, even if they don't show it to you, and love those you love you, and even those who don't."

"Thank you, Professor. That sounds like sound advice. I wish the same thing for you," she said. She walked toward the door, turned back once, smiled at him, and left.

The War –

Remus Lupin sat at a long wooden table in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld place and remembered that conversation as if it were yesterday. He looked across the table at the young girl, no, young woman, and he felt bad for her. She had no idea how hard it would be to help Harry carry the cross in which he must bear.

She was smart, no doubt about that, and he would need her brains, and her compassion, and her friendship, to get him through this insane task that Dumbledore, the stupid old fool, set at their feet. If only he could help them in some way. He offered to, but Harry told him no, that Dumbledore told him he had to do it alone.

He tried to convince Harry that he should come, too, that they might need his wisdom and maturity. The truth of the matter was that he was afraid. Remus Lupin was afraid, and his fear was twofold. He was afraid of letting Harry, Hermione and Ron go off on this quest into the unknown on their own, and he was afraid of staying here and facing the fact that he was going to be a father, and probably a terrible one at that.

Harry more or less bawled him out and told him to stop thinking of himself and start thinking about his unborn child. Perhaps Harry was more like James than he realized.

Hermione was embarrassed by Harry's outburst to him, he could tell. She smiled at him as she left the room shortly after Harry left. Now, just ten minutes later, she came back, and in a silent dance orchestrated for his benefit, to offer him reassurance, he was sure, she waltzed back into the room, book in her hand, and sat across from him and started to read. That single, simple act meant more to him than words could say.

"Hermione?" he asked.

She looked up. "Yes, Professor?"

"First, I've asked you and Harry both a million times to call me Remus. I haven't been a professor for a long time."

She laughed and said, "Old habits die hard. What may I do for you, Remus?"

"How is Harry, truly?" he asked.

"As well as to be expected," she said.

"I can make your burden lighter, if you would only trust me, you know," he said.

"It's not that Harry doesn't trust you, Professor, I mean, Remus. He does. He just has to do this himself. It's the way it has to be. Believe me, we wish you could help, too. We wish Professor Dumbledore had left us clearer instructions. We wish for many things," she said, closing her book. She stood up and walked over to him. She sat on the bench beside him and held his hand. This act of kindness reminded him how tired he was of being alone.

"You're worried about Tonks, aren't you?" she asked.

He said, "How can I bring a child into this world of darkness, Hermione? How can I be a good father, being what I am?"

"What you are is a kind and generous man. You will be a good father because you are a good man," she said. "And this world of darkness will get better. Have faith. Harry will succeed. He will make things better for you, and for all of us," she said.

"I wish I had your blind faith," he said back.

She chuckled and said, "All faith is blind, Remus. It's not something you can see in your eyes, only in here," and she placed her hand over his heart, "and after you feel it here, you will believe it here," and her hand moved to the side of his head.

She stood up and picked up her book. She started toward the kitchen door, turned back around to look at him once more, and smiled. He smiled back. He thought one thing, 'the student has become the teacher.'

That was the last time she ever spoke with him.

After the Battle -

After the battle of Hogwarts, Remus was brought into the Great Hall with the other casualties. His body was placed beside the body of his wife. Hours after the end of the battle, Hermione walked around the Great Hall, at a loss. She was numb. She honestly didn't know what to do. For the first time in her life, she didn't have a clue what to say or do, and that scared her. Ron was with his family, mourning the loss of Fred. Harry had disappeared, and she understood, he needed to be alone. That left her by herself, something she hadn't been in a long time, and she wasn't comfortable being alone. She needed a shoulder to cry on, but right now, there wasn't a shoulder available.

Where was her place? What should she do? What was expected of her? She bent down to look at Remus, pulling the sheet away from his battle-scarred face, and she started to cry. She just cried. For Remus, for Tonks, for little Teddy, for Fred, for Colin, and even for her parents, whom she missed terribly. She cried.

She cried for Ron, for Harry and for all the rest. For Dumbledore, for everyone. She cried. Mostly, she cried because she was alone.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Oliver Wood. He smiled down at her and said, "Are you okay, Lass?"

She shook her head no. She turned back to look at the dead body of her former teacher. Oliver leaned over, pulled the sheet back over the dead man's face, and pulled her up by her shoulders. He held her and let her cry. She cried until she thought no more tears would come.

Hours later, as the evening sky started to envelope the day, she was walking the grounds of Hogwarts when she saw Draco Malfoy sitting alone on a stone bench. She was about to turn and walk away, when he looked up and saw her. He bent his head back down. She thought of the words her professor had told her when she was young. She should have compassion. She should love those who loved her, and even those who didn't. She would start right now, for Remus. She would honour him by doing what he told her to do.

She walked up to Draco Malfoy. He didn't raise his head. She said, "Draco, I know they took your mother and father away. I want to tell you that I'm sorry. I know this war has been hard on everyone, you and your family included. I just wanted to let you know that." She fully expected him to tell her to sod off, to call her a nasty name, and tell her to keep her feelings to herself. When the impending deluge didn't come, she started to walk away.

He kept his head bowed when she spoke, but looked up when she turned to walk away. She sensed this and turned back. She locked eyes with him. She walked back toward him and said, "And thank you for not telling your aunt who we were when we were captured."

"What good did it do?" he asked, no longer looking at her, but looking back at his clasped hands.

"It may not have done any good, since she found out who we were anyway, but at least you weren't the one to tell her," she said. She turned back around. She took two steps away from him when he said, "Hey, Granger?"

She turned back once more.

"I'm sorry for what my Aunt did to you at my house," he said.

She smiled. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry about the Weasley twin, and about Professor Lupin. I saw you crying by his body. You must have really been close, huh?" he asked.

She walked over to him. To her surprise he scooted across the bench, and to his surprise, she sat next to him. She said, "He was one of the best men I have ever known, and I'm going to miss him a lot." She started to cry again. She was embarrassed that she was crying in front of Draco Malfoy of all people.

The thing that happened next shocked them both. He placed his arm around her shoulder. She didn't push it off; instead, she placed her head on his shoulder. She placed her hands over her face and continued to weep. He placed his other arm around her front, and with both his arms around her, he held her.

The day turned from twilight to night, and for countless hours, her former enemy, the bane of her existence during her time at Hogwarts, held her as she cried. Not a single word passed between them. Sometimes she cried silent tears and sometimes she cried loud wails. Sometimes he cried with her.

When the night sky turned coal black, she heard someone call her name. Draco let her go. She looked toward the outline of the person calling her name as they approached. It was Oliver Wood again. He said, "There you are, Hermione. Harry wants to talk to you. He was worried when we couldn't find you. Come inside with me."

She looked over at Draco and said, "Where are you going to go?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"Thank you for your compassion," she said.

"Thank you, too," he said. "You are the only one today to show me any consideration and benevolence, and to offer me any apologies. I appreciate that more than words can say."

She stood up. smiled, and said, "I did it in memory of Remus Lupin." She leaned down and kissed Draco Malfoy's cheek, in an act that could only be described as surreal.

Oliver took her hand and led her away. Draco placed his hand on his cheek and watched her go.

_(Next part, Oliver and Hermione, and then the last part will be Draco and Hermione.)_


	4. Part IV: Oliver and Hermione

All characters belong to JKR

(This chapter is written for oliverwoodgirl if for no other reason than her name, and she is one of my betas!)

Part IV: Oliver and Hermione:

"I'm sorry, lass, but if you can't come up with the money by the end of the day, then I have to sell. I told you that very thing three months ago. I don't know what else to say or do," Oliver Wood told Hermione Granger as they sat in a booth at their favourite coffee shop.

Oliver hated telling her that, and he could tell she wasn't taking it well, but he didn't know what else to do.

He could tell the cogs in her head were spinning. He owned the building where she not only lived, but also had her bookstore. He told her three months ago that he was moving to Canada, and that he was going to have to sell off most of his property for capital to finance a Quidditch training program he was starting to help underprivileged young witches and wizards. She had three months to figure out what to do, and now they were down to the wire, so he was forced to sell to someone else, because she couldn't come up with the money.

"Time's up, girl," he said sadly. "I wish I had unlimited money, and could just give you the building, or even keep it, and let you manage it, but I really need the start up capital, and I'm signing the final papers for the sale at Gringotts this afternoon."

"Oh, Oliver," she said, placing her head in her hands.

"Did you ask Potter for the money?" he asked.

"Money and friendship don't mix," she said. "He would loan me the money in a heartbeat, no, he would give me the money in a heartbeat, but I don't want to take advantage of him like that. Likewise, my parents would give me the money, but their money is all wrapped up in their practice and in their retirement fund. I don't want them to touch it."

Hermione sighed and took another drink of coffee. Then she said, "Maybe you could tell the new owners I want to stay on, and we could come to an agreement."

"I tried that, girl, but they want to tear the building down and build condos, or some such rubbish," he said. The new owners, was really just one person, and while that wasn't quite true, that was the story he was told to tell her.

He hated lying to her. He hated causing her pain. She had been like the little sister he had never had, and he wanted to shield her from the harsh realities of the world, no matter what they were, but he knew he couldn't, at least not in this case.

"Oliver, are you sure they are intent on tearing down? That building is hundreds of years old! Are you certain?"

"Ask me an easier question, Hermione. Ask me why the grass is green or the sky is blue, or why I talk with a Scottish brogue," he laughed.

"Ha, ha," she said solemnly. "Maybe if I go to the bank, one more time, and I get down on my hands and knees and beg, they might loan me the money."

"You've tried that, twice, and it's not worked," he said. "I'm sorry, Lass. I really am," he said. She could tell that he meant it. She held his hand from across the table, to try to comfort him.

That was the way she was. He marveled at that quality. Even though she was the one in distress, she was trying to comfort him. That was always the way with Hermione Granger. He remembered when she was small, and Draco Malfoy called her a Mudblood for the first time. Everyone gasped; shocked that someone would use that word. Even though she was a little girl, she didn't cry. She wanted to, everyone could tell, but she was brave and strong and held the tears at bay.

Grace and bravery…that was Hermione Granger.

And smart. He recalled that time she charmed Harry's glasses so they wouldn't fog up and they could repel the rain during a Quidditch match. Oliver was so grateful at the time that he almost kissed her!

He also recalled, with certain sadness, how small and fragile she seemed after the Battle of Hogwarts. After the battle, he found her kneeling down beside the body of Remus Lupin and Oliver Wood's heart broke for her that day. It broke for many people, but especially for her. At that time, he wasn't even aware of everything she and Harry and Ron had gone through, (Harry wouldn't tell that story until sometime later), but Oliver knew that it was hard, and she carried the burden without complaint.

Afterwards, their world wanted to bestow praise and accolades on the three, but none of them would have it. Each of them just wanted to go on with their lives. The Ministry even gave them all a sizeable cash reward. Each of them donated their money to worthy charities.

If she had taken that money, she wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. A mess that wasn't of her making, a mess that he caused, a mess that she was comforting him for causing. Yes, she was compassionate.

When Oliver first mentioned to her that he was leaving the country, and that he would have to sell the building, the first thing he said was, "Too bad you didn't take that money from the Ministry five years ago." She told him that none of them defeated Voldemort for money. They did it for their fellow man.

Oliver and Hermione tried dating twice. The first time it was apparent they were better friends, but they still went on a second date, which was awkward. He remembered when he leaned in to kiss her goodnight, at the last moment he turned his face and kissed her forehead. Then they both laughed. If he had kissed her on the mouth, it would have felt like kissing his sister…wrong in so many ways. Therefore, they become friends.

He wished he could be a better friend to her now. He wished he could fix everything for her and make her life easier. Lighten her load. He knew most of her friends felt that way about her, which was odd. Everyone wanted to take care of Hermione Granger, yet he had never met a woman who needed taken care of less than she did. He really felt the need to put his arms around her, hold her, and never let her go. Never let pain touch her heart again. He smiled at that thought. He knew if a man tried to do that to Hermione Granger, she would probably curse the living daylights out of him! His smile brought her out of her deep thoughts and she said, "What?"

"Nothing, I'm just remembering things. I really do have to go to Gringotts and sign those papers, Hermione," he said, as he stood.

"I'll join you," she said. "I want one last chance to try to get that money. Will you at least wait for that?"

"Of course," he said, although he knew she would not succeed, he would wait.

It was a blustery fall day outside. When they entered the tall, wizarding bank, Hermione's hair blew forward as they walked in the large foyer, hiding her face and obstructing her view. They both laughed as Oliver smoothed her hair out of her face. Neither noticed the man standing over at the side, leaning against the wall, watching with envy the entire exchange.

This man knew Hermione and Oliver wasn't a couple, but he still felt envy and a bit of jealousy. He saw the Scottish man kiss her cheek and then she walked down the hall, away from him. He waited for the man to see him. He wondered how Oliver Wood could leave such a girl, to go to another country, even if they weren't dating. Even if they were just friends. How could he bare to leave her? Draco knew if he had her for a friend, or perhaps more, he would never leave her.

Before he could ponder these things more, Oliver Wood saw him and waved. He walked over to Draco and said, "I'll sign your papers, but I promised Hermione I would wait to see if she could borrow the money for the building first. I owe her that much, seeing that I'm rendering her unemployed and homeless."

"They won't loan her the money," Draco said. "I promise you that. Come on, let's get this over with." Draco pointed toward a room, and Oliver followed.

Oliver and Malfoy walked into a large conference room. "Honestly, Malfoy," Oliver said, "Maybe I should hold off signing the papers until I see if Hermione gets the money. I told her I would give her that chance, and you can't know for sure that they won't change their minds and give her the loan."

Draco turned toward the man, but then sat down at the table. He looked tired to Oliver. Oliver sat across from him. Draco said, "Gringotts will not loan her the money, because I told them if they did, I would withdraw every galleon I have in the place. Now will you sign?"

Oliver stood up so suddenly that his chair fell over. "What have you done, Malfoy? Forget it! The deals off! I would rather give her the building and suffer the consequences myself than have you manipulate her for some sick, twisted, plot of revenge, no matter how much I need the money."

"Oh, sit down, Wood," Draco said. "Why would I seek revenge on Hermione Granger?"

"What else could this be about, if not hate and revenge?" Oliver asked, picking up his chair and sitting down. He banged his hand on the table and said, "I don't see why you are working against Hermione. You are leaving her homeless and unemployed in one swipe."

Draco raised his eyebrows and said, "No, as you stated earlier, you are."

Oliver ignored that fact, because he already felt guilty enough, and said, "What has she done to you? You surely don't want that building, so it has to come back to her."

"You're right," Draco said, almost acting bored now. "It's not about the building. The place is a dump. But, it's a dump you've already promised to me, so if you don't mind, sign the papers, or I will get my solicitors in here and remind you that we already have a binding verbal agreement."

"So it's not about the building, but about hurting Hermione?" Oliver asked. "Why? She's a kind, sweet girl, Malfoy! She's never done anything bad to you!"

Now Draco was the indignant one. He stood and pushed his chair back so hard it banged into the wall. He walked over to Oliver, who also stood. He said, "You're right again, Wood! She's never done anything bad to me!"

"Then why?"

"My reasons are my own!"

Oliver shook his head and said, "Not a good enough answer for me, Malfoy. I don't care if you sue me. I'm not signing. You have to have a dubious objective here, and if it's just because she's a Mudblood…"

"Sit your arse down, Wood!" Draco shouted. Oliver remained standing. "I am no longer a child! I don't even use that word anymore!"

Oliver calmed down, because something changed about Malfoy's countenance, his whole demeanor changed, when Oliver said the word 'Mudblood'. He sat back down, and so did Malfoy, but in Oliver's opinion, Draco seemed defeated suddenly.

In a very calm voice, Oliver said, "I just want to understand why."

Draco put his head in his hands. He didn't look at the other man when he said, "She offered me a kindness once, when no one else did. It may sound like a little thing to you, but it changed my life. I'm going to repay her by giving her the building." He looked up suddenly. Oliver could tell that Draco never meant to reveal his true intentions. He suddenly said, "But you can't tell a soul, Wood!"

"Draco," the older man said with kindness, "she won't accept your charity, no matter the good intentions. She's proud. She was in Gryffindor, after all. She wouldn't even go to Harry for the money, and he has plenty and would give it to her in a second."

"It's not charity," Draco said, almost urgently. "It's payment in kind. Surely she would take it."

"I know she won't," Oliver said. "Listen, Malfoy, I can see your purpose is good, but if you truly want Hermione to have the building, which I can see you do, you are going to have to go about it in a totally different way. You should somehow offer her the money to buy it, as a loan or something."

"Buy my own building from myself?" Draco asked.

"Something like that, otherwise, she won't do it," Oliver said.

"But I don't want her money! No, I won't loan her money," Draco said.

"Then figure out another way, but she will never just take the building from you, Malfoy. Never. I've gotten to know her very well over the years, and she's got her pride," Oliver stated.

"Maybe I could have her repay me other ways," Draco said, thinking aloud. "Perhaps I could have her do something for me in exchange for the building."

Oliver stared at him for a moment and then said, "Hey, Malfoy, she's not a common prostitute! She won't exchange sex for the building either!"

Draco looked up suddenly and said, "Get your tartan-covered mind out of the gutter, Wood! It's not like that! Granger would never agree to something like that, anyway." Draco stood back up and walked over to the windows. He said, "I told you earlier, she was kind to me once when I needed kindness. She offered me friendship, even though I had only ever offered her seven years of pain. I have to repay that. It's a debt that weighs on me daily."

He turned to Oliver. "I know she's proud, and would never accept my gift. I know that now, so I will make it a business arrangement. Just sign the papers. I have things to do. Unlike you, I can't loiter around here all day."

Oliver thought for a moment, then reached across the table, grabbed the documents and a quill, and signed the papers.

As Draco and Oliver were leaving the room together, they saw Hermione flying past. Oliver called to her, and Draco stepped back into the room, leaving the door opened a crack so he could hear what she said.

"Hermione!" Oliver called out.

She turned back around, threw herself in Oliver's arms and in despair she said, "It's hopeless! They won't loan me the money! I don't know what else to do, Oliver. I can't go to Harry, I just can't. Everyone always go to him for money, and I for one would never do that to him. My dream is over." She put her head on his chest, her arms hanging down at her sides. She didn't cry, she just stood there, numb and defeated.

"It's too late anyway, Lass. I just signed the papers." Oliver held her tight and stroked her hair.

She pushed away from him slightly and said, "Who bought it?"

Draco stepped out of the doorway and cleared his throat. Hermione pushed away from Oliver and looked at him, and the she looked back at Oliver, for confirmation that she hoped wouldn't come. However, the confirmation came from Draco, not Oliver, when Draco said two words, "I did."

(Part five dedicated to Hiddenstarrz. She picked out who Hermione would end up with in this story, so all the Dramione fans out there should thank her!)


	5. Part V: Draco and Hermione

All characters belong to JKR

_Part five dedicated to Hiddenstarrz. She picked out who Hermione would end up with in this story, so all the Dramione fans out there should thank her!_

Part V: Draco and Hermione:

The rain seemed appropriate. It should be raining. It was as if the sky was crying for her, because it knew she didn't have any tears left. The only thing that would make it more appropriate, was if it would thunder, right…about…now. Hermione waited for the crack of thunder. When it came, she couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips.

It was official. Her store just closed for the last time. She failed. She tried hard, but in the end, she failed. She fought hard, but again, in the end she failed. She had a going out of business sale, and almost everything was gone. She even sold most of the fixtures and furniture. Malfoy gave her until the end of the month to move on, and the end of the month was in three days.

In three days, her life as she knew it would cease.

In three days, she would start a new adventure.

In three days, she would start on a fresh page.

She was wistful, thinking about what life had in store for her. She sat down on the bare floor, because there was nowhere else to sit, and she pulled her legs up to her chin, placed her back against the counter, put her head on her knees, and did the unthinkable. She cried. There were some tears left after all.

She heard the bell over the door chime. She didn't look up, she merely said, "I'm sorry, but we're closed for good. There's nothing left."

She didn't look up as she heard footsteps approach. She let her eyes rest on a pair of black, polished shoes, and then let her eyes ran up the length of grey wool trousers, up to a black shirt, to the face of Draco Malfoy. He offered her his hand.

She remembered another time he offered her a hand, and a shoulder, on which to cry. All those years ago after the final battle. The only difference then was that she had forgiven him for all his past deeds. This time, she wondered if she could be as forgiving.

She let his hand hang there helplessly in the air, and she tucked her face back in her knees and cried harder.

She heard his footsteps retreat. She heard the door again. She assumed he left. She looked up, but all he had done was close the blind on the door and lock it. She wondered if he did that because he didn't want there to be any witnesses as he nailed the final nail in her coffin. She turned her face toward the empty store, her cheek on her knee, and she said, "Why lock the door?"

He didn't say a word. He knelt beside her, and then sat on the floor next to her. He placed his back against the counter just as she had. He reached for her wrist, his fingertips skimming the skin of her arm, finally to rest her hand in his. He said, "It'll be okay."

No, it wouldn't. It wouldn't be okay. However, she no longer cared. She leaned her face against his shoulder and cried harder. He moved her hand from his right hand to his left, and then placed his right arm around her shoulders.

"Thing didn't have to go like this, you know," he said.

"Yes they did," she answered.

"No, they really didn't." He had no one to blame but himself. He messed it all up, and now, here she was, suffering, once again at his hand, just as she had so many times before. An act of goodwill turned to an act of hurt, and he felt powerless to stop it. He turned his face toward her head and kissed the top of her hair. He let go of her hand and brought his hand up to her face. He let his fingertips slide effortlessly down her downy soft cheek. He touched her lips. She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. The air was heavy and their mutual confusion hung between them, suspended in time. Finally, he blinked.

He leaned closer, and felt compelled to kiss her, so he did. A simple, plain kiss. A kiss goodbye, a kiss hello, a kiss of forgiveness, or a kiss of redemption…he would never know. He just needed to do it as much as he felt she needed to be kissed.

She started to move away from him. He understood, he had taken it too far. Nevertheless, the next thing she did surprised him. Hermione went to lie on the floor next to his reclining body. She placed her head on his thigh and continued to cry. He stroked her hair, said things like, "Hush" and "Shh" and "It will be alright." If he could give her nothing else, he could give her his sympathy and words of comfort, no matter how empty. He could comfort her, as she comforted him all those years ago. Maybe this act alone was repayment for her kindness.

He hoped so, because it was the only thing left that he could do.

That day in the bank, when he told her he was the one that had bought the building where she lived and worked, he could almost see the wind knocked out of her. She looked up at Oliver for confirmation, and then back to Draco. Both men were nodding their heads yes.

She ran from the bank and didn't look back.

Two days later, he showed up on her doorstep. She already had a sign in her window saying that the store was closing for good. He didn't know what to think of that, but then he remembered that he told Oliver to tell her that the new owners wanted to knock the building down and build condominiums, so he guessed it made sense that she would assume she had to close.

He went through the aisles, looked along the throng of people weaving in and out of the store, and finally, he saw her head. She was heading toward a back room.

He followed. She went into what looked like a little office. He knocked on the opened door. She was leaning over, looking in a desk drawer. He took the opportunity to look at her backside and smiled. She heard someone behind her so she said, "Just a moment." She straighten up and saw it was he and frowned.

"Oh, Malfoy."

"Granger."

"What may I do for you?" she asked.

"Going out of business, are you?" he asked. He moved inside the small office and shut the door. She actually looked at the door, a quick fleeting look, which didn't escape him. He wondered if she was afraid to be in the same enclosed space with him.

She was literally trapped behind the desk, as the one side was against the wall, and he was leaning against the other side. She moved the chair so it was between their bodies, and she leaned as far against the wall as she could and said, "Yes, I guess I am, since I couldn't get the money to buy the building from Oliver."

"You don't even want to try to renegotiate a new lease with the new owner?" he asked.

"What would be the point?" she asked. "You plan to tear the building down, don't you?"

"Maybe, maybe not. If I get a better offer, I may not," he said. He tried to act bored, by examining his fingernails, but inside his belly was flopping around and his heart was almost beating out of his chest. He looked back up at her and she hadn't changed expressions.

Finally, she said, "If I couldn't come up with the money to buy the place from Oliver, I won't be able to buy it from you."

"I don't want your money," he said. "I might be thinking of something else."

Her gaze narrowed and she moved the chair against the wall and actually stepped closer to him. He felt slightly afraid and he wondered where her wand was. She said, "What are you saying?"

"Just that there are some things more important than money. I have lots of money, so you're right, no amount could tempt me to sell you this place. However, I might be tempted to give it to you, if the price was right," he said.

"But you just said you didn't want money," she said.

He couldn't help but laugh. "I don't want money," he confirmed.

Suddenly she looked angry and her arm flew up to strike him, but he was prepared. It only takes being slapped by Hermione Granger once in a person's life to know that you don't want it to happen again. Sometimes he swore he could still feel the sting of her hand on his cheek from that time in school when she slapped him.

He had said something cruel to her and her friends, as he was apt to do, proud that his father was involved in hurting 'their friend', the great oaf, Hagrid. After his cruel words, he smiled, and she came up to him and struck him across the face.

It wasn't a pleasant memory, but not many memories involving Hermione and Draco in school were pleasant. In fact, not a one of them was, not until that day of the final battle, and even that memories wasn't pleasant as much as it was bittersweet.

He caught her hand mid flight. He said, "I don't believe I will let you hit me today, Granger. Calm down. Your mind is as dirty as Oliver's. He assumed I meant the same thing."

She took a deep breath and said, "You may let go of my hand now. I promise not to hit you."

"I don't trust you," he said. Secretly, he just wanted to hold her hand. He didn't want her to get away before he offered her what he came to offer her.

"No, really, let go," she said, her voice wavering. Instead, he pulled her closer. Her eyes widened and the hand he didn't have a hold of came to rest on his chest. Then she had to ruin the moment by frowning. He let her go.

"Tell me what you want," she asked directly.

"I want to give you this building. Will you let me do this for you? I don't want anything in return," he stated, in his sweetest, most sincere voice.

She frowned again. Why did she keep frowning? It caused him to frown. She said, "I don't believe you."

He said, "I don't care what you believe."

Hermione pushed Draco aside and walked out of the office. He wouldn't be deterred. He followed her as she walked down a small, dark hallway, to a set of stairs, which led upstairs. He knew he was being pushy, but it was his building now, and he could go anywhere he wished.

She turned on the dark, narrow staircase and asked, "What do you really want, Malfoy? Really?"

He huffed in frustration and said, "I want to give you this whole building, no strings attached. You know, for a fairly intelligent woman, you seem to have trouble understanding me."

She let out a strangled noise, halfway between a cry and a sigh, and she sat on the stairs. "Why? Why, Malfoy? Don't say it's because I was once nice to you. I'm nice to a lot of people, and they don't give me real estate." He placed his hand on her knee, causing her to frown again, and she moved her leg slightly so he could sit beside her on the stairs, one-step lower. She said, "Why would a sane person spend all this money to buy a building, only to give it away. If you wanted me to have the building, you shouldn't have blocked my loan attempts with Gringotts." He looked away from her. She said, "That's right, Oliver told me. There has to be a catch, Malfoy."

"Why are you so cynical?" he asked.

"Why are you so vague?" she asked back. "Why wait all these years to repay me? You could have just sent me a nice thank-you note or something." He looked up at her and she was actually smiling.

He said, "I couldn't find a card shop."

"Malfoy," she warned.

"Listen, can't I be altruistic? Why does everyone always think I have ulterior motives?"

"Maybe because your name is Malfoy," she answered, no pun intended. "Besides, this is beyond being charitable. This is insane."

"Let me do this, Granger," he said.

"Why?"

He stood up, pulled at his hair and said, "You are the most stubborn, frustrating woman I have ever met!" Of course, that was part of the reason why he liked her so much. He walked down two more steps and turned to face her. "I don't have to quantify my motives to you!" He leaned against the wall, his hand on the banister, and he shut his eyes. "Why can't I just do this for you, and get a thank-you back? Why?"

"I can't, Draco."

He opened his eyes. She called him Draco. That seemed important for some reason. He took off his jacket and loosened his tie, which slightly startled her. She stood up. A ghost of a smile graced his features. He placed his jacket on the steps, and rolled up both sleeves. He held out his bare arms to her and said, "Look, Granger, I have nothing up my sleeves. No jokes, no tricks, no secret motives. I don't want anything from you."

She stood up as well and said, "You're a liar. You do want something."

"Fine, I want to feel good about myself, and I want to repay a kindness, so in the end, I'm being selfish, and you're spoiling it for me," he said, quite seriously.

Hermione said, "No."

He leaned over, picked up his jacket, and started down the stairs. He said, "Goodbye, Granger."

When he reached the bottom step, he heard her say, "You know, I remember it differently."

He turned to look up the passageway at her.

"You were the one that was kind to me that day. You held me, talked to me, and comforted me. All I did was to offer you a few nice words. If anything, I owe you the debt of gratitude, not the other way around. I don't see that any payment of any sort needs to transpire between us. If you would like, I'll tell you thank you, but that's the extent of it."

He threw his jacket on the floor and tore up the stairs so fast that she was alarmed. She back up, and tripped, falling on her bum on the stairs. He leaned over her body, his right arm on the banister, his left hand on the step near her body. He leaned over so close that she had almost to lie on the stairs.

He said, "Listen, Granger, that's not the end of it, not by a long shot. You don't get to say when it's the end! If I were an honest man, which by most accounts I'm not, I would admit that you're correct. I do want something more from you! I don't just want your gratitude! I _wasn't_ lying when I said I will give you the building without forethought, but yes, I want something more, but not in exchange for the building!"

"I knew it," she said softly.

"You should know it," he said. He lifted his right hand from the banister, reached for her, but drew his hand back. He stood back up. He closed his eyes, and while they were still closed, he said, "Can you guess what it is that I want?"

"You want me to go out with you," she said softly, plainly, and with complete and utter confidence in her words.

He opened his eyes, surprised that she guessed his secret. He did want to go out with her. He wanted to do more than go out with her, but he wanted to start with that. He figured it would take a very long time to work up to asking her out. How did she guess his secret? "Yes, that's my wish," he said. He felt defeated. If she wouldn't take a building from him, she would never go out with him, or maybe it was the other way around, but either way, he was defeated.

He stepped slowly down the stairs, until he reached the bottom, and sat down on the second from the bottom step. He leaned against the wall.

And all Hermione saw was the same isolated, sad, lost, confused, out of place man that she saw all those years ago, sitting on a bench, outside of Hogwarts, after the final battle.

From the top of the stairs she said, "One thing has nothing to do with the other, does it?"

He turned to look at her. "Pardon?"

"You said one thing was not contingent on the other, right? The building offer has nothing to do with the dating offer?" she asked for clarification.

He understood. She was considering one, but not the other. Well, good. He was being honest when he said that there were no strings attached to him giving her the building. He said, "No strings. Believe me."

She walked down the stairs and said, "If I came up with the money, would you sell me the building?"

He wondered why she asked that. Wasn't she considering his offer to give her the building? He said, "I don't think so." He wouldn't sell it to her. He wanted to give it to her. He continued, "Anyway, you couldn't find the money before, how will you find it now?"

She sat beside him and said, "Let me worry about that."

"If I sell you the building, will you go out with me?" he asked. Grasping at straws, perhaps, but a man could ask a question and not seem desperate, couldn't he?

She didn't answer for a while and then she said, "One thing doesn't have to do with the other, isn't that what you said?"

That response intrigued him. It gave him hope, and he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because she hadn't said, 'no'.

He was in a dilemma. He said, "Listen, I only have one more question, and then this is over. Will you take the building or not?"

"No," she said.

"Then you have 30 days to vacate," he said. He stood up, confused, tired, and slightly weary of her all of the sudden. He walked down the last two steps and turned the corner heading toward the store, when he heard her call his name.

"Malfoy?"

He stopped. He poked his head back around the corner and peered up at her.

"What?"

"Are you sure that's the only question you have for me?" she asked.

No, he wasn't sure. He started to open his mouth to ask her once more if she would go out with him, but he didn't. He said, "For now, yes, that's all I have to ask."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

As they sat on the floor of her empty store, the sky outside long past twilight, her tears abated, side my side, with their backs against the counter, she said, "Thanks for everything."

"Thanks? For what, squashing your dreams and your future?" he asked.

She turned to look at him. She said, "No, for holding me while I cried. We are two to one, now. It looks like I owe you one, Malfoy."

"And perhaps one day I will collect," he said.

He stood up and offered her his hand, just as he had earlier. This time, she placed her hand in his, and allowed him to help her to stand. He held it long after they were both standing. She looked at their clasped hands and said, "By the way, don't you finally have something else to ask me?"

He hadn't forgotten when she asked him that a month ago. Would she really consider going out with him now? After what he did? Wasn't he the villain in this story? Did she want to merely humiliate him, have him ask her out, to turn him down and embarrass him? He held up her hand to his face, and opened it, palm side up. He placed his other hand around it, and with her hand cradled in both of his, he brought it to his lips and kissed her open palm.

"Will you go out with me, Hermione?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered.

His eyes darted to hers, he looked into her eyes, which were still red from recent tears, and he pulled her closer. He kept her right hand in his left, and brought his right hand up to her cheek. He brushed it against her cheek, through her hair, and to the back of her neck. He pulled her the rest of the way against his body and he cocked his head slightly to the side. He placed his face next to hers, his warm breath on her cheek, the smell of her shampoo in his nose, and in her ear he said, "Thank you. I figure that's long overdue." He kissed the sensitive skin below her ear, with a soft, but lingering kiss. He breathed in the scent of her, and let his nose skim her jaw line.

He lifted his head from hers and said, "You could have saved us so much time if you had just taken the damn building."

"If I had taken the building, I wouldn't have been able to accept going out with you, so I had to decide which was the most important," she said.

He smiled a wide smile, and with her hand still in his, he pointed his finger toward his own chest and said, "And you decided I was most important of the two?"

She nodded.

"Well, damn Granger, you could have told me that. I have a confession. I'm the one that bought all the contents of your store, down to the last table and chair," he said, with a wink.

"I know, Malfoy. Do you think I'm stupid? I mean, seriously, the same ten or twelve people came in all month long buying up everything," she said.

He shook his head slightly and said, "This is the most I've ever spent on a date, and we've not even gone out yet."

"Well, believe me, I'm worth it," she answered.

His right hand rubbed up and down her back, and he again placed his mouth on her ear and said, "Boy, do I know it." Hermione turned her head and he captured her lips swiftly. He only tasted her sweet lips for a moment, before lifting his head to stare in her eyes.

He felt that no more words needed to pass between them. This was the best moment of his life.

The End


End file.
